


A King's Life

by TigressDreamer



Series: Magical Mishaps [3]
Category: Strange Magic (2015)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-16
Updated: 2019-08-01
Packaged: 2020-01-15 01:57:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18488944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TigressDreamer/pseuds/TigressDreamer
Summary: His life sucked. It's the only explanation that he had. Just that morning he was dating the most beautiful woman he had ever seen and by evening, he somehow angers a witch. Woof. (Rated to be safe, for a bit of language, and suggestive content.)





	1. A Ruff Time

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [A Hairy Situation](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9134056) by [levele3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/levele3/pseuds/levele3). 



> Disclaimer for the entire story: Sadly, I do not own Strange Magic, although I do have the DVD that I play once a week.
> 
> Oh, lookie! I continued it so Bog doesn't get to be a dog forever ;P. I've decided that this exists in the same world as Magic & Delight and Awfully Problematic Intentions. A world dedicated to the Magical Mishaps of Aura Plum and Ignatius Imp. ...I wonder what I could do to Sunny and Dawn...
> 
> Life has been...better left unsaid, so I don't have done what I was hoping would be done. The circus AU has been stalled and the Lughnasa sequel for Wild Love hasn't even been started yet, though I do have the plot, mostly. Battlelines have been drawn and the fighters are thirsty for blood. One thing is sure, it's going to be a "Wild Fight"! Constructive advice is appreciated but please refrain from criticism. Enjoy!
> 
> Inspired by levele3's A Hairy Situation and one other story on here that I can't find at the moment, I think it's a single story within a collection of stories?. A dropped hint would be appreciated and the same goes for my other stories if you see something that is inspired by another writer. I'd gladly give credit where credit is due...if I can just remember where I've seen it. My head is a disorganized library and random bits of information pop-up unexpectedly months and months later, usually without everything connected to it.

He's a dog.

A literal four-legged, fur-covered, barking dog.

How did this happen?!

Well, he knows how. His neighbor is a witch. No, no, an actual witch. Although, she covered the other definition of witch very well.

He still doesn't know why she did this to him. Okay, so he snapped at her when she asked him how he was doing but she should have been used to that side of him after living next to him for five years. It never bothered her before when he was grumpy.

And this time he had a very good reason for being so surly. It's not every day that he proposes to his girlfriend of six years and not only gets turned down but he also gets a long-winded explanation of how hideous he is and that his money isn't worth being married to him. It didn't help that they were in the park at the time and she was far from quiet. It also didn't help that a very good-looking man walked up to them and asked his "Buttercup" if the ugly cockroach was bothering her. As if he wasn't devastated and humiliated enough but he had to find out that their entire relationship had an extra partner in it that he didn't know about.

At least he got the extreme pleasure of notifying her that their relationship was over and that he won't be paying her bills anymore. Even the blonde supermodel looked about ready to cry at that revelation.

He doesn't know what is worse, that they actually believed that he would still support her and her lover after finding out the truth or that they actually believed that he was so desperate that he would still support her and her lover after finding out the truth.

Then to top off a shitty day, he goes home to the house he had bought for them to settle down in and somehow pisses off the neighborhood witch. A short conversation that ended with her telling him that if he wanted to act like a dog then he might as well be one and then poof, a short bit of pain later and he's looking up at the usually shorter woman.

Bog growls at the remembrance but quickly shuts up as he notices looks being directed toward his hiding place. If being a dog isn't bad enough, he's also been on the run for three days. Like he was sticking around after he turned his head and saw his new appearance in the reflective gazing ball in his front yard.

He hightailed it out of there as fast as his long legs could take him and has no shame in admitting that he ran the whole way to his childhood home with his tail tucked underneath him. Too bad that he forgot that his mother is away for two weeks. A fact that he didn't remember until he reached the secluded cabin fifty-two miles away from his residence. The housesitter's scream of panic ripping through the night air only told him that he couldn't stay there either.

He went into his hometown because he was hungry and as much as he didn't want to root in the dumpsters, he drew the line at eating his meat raw. Unfortunately, he forgot about the dogcatcher. Which led him to his present hiding place at the heavily forested park in the middle of the small city.

As far as he can see it, he only has one option but returning home to somehow convince Plum to turn him back doesn't sound all that appealing. There is also the problem of making it back there in the first place. It was a miracle that he managed to make it here without something happening to him and he's not sure that he can make it back.

Maybe if he had a way to contact Plum. She might be willing to come to him and turn him back. Surely, she's racked by guilt by now.

Who was he kidding?

The low groan rumbles through his chest and he lays his long snout on his folded paws. His life sucked. He's a literal dog, hungry and filthy, and has been that way going on four days. He got the lovely revelation that the woman that he thought he was in love with was only in love with his money and her reservations about a physical relationship with him had nothing to do with her religious beliefs as she claimed. As pathetic as it sounds for a man of thirty-eight, he wants his mommy and she isn't even around because he gave her a cruise vacation for her birthday. Worst of all, he has a dreadful urge to itch that he can only pray it is caused by the mud and debris stuck in his blue-grey wiry coat and not by fleas.

His only consolation is the fact that his ex is probably very regretful by now since her rent was due yesterday and so was her car payment, neither of which she is capable of paying for. Even if he feels like a fool as he looks back over their relationship, she gave him the perfect opportunity for revenge with all her manipulations because she has no way to support herself now that he and his money is gone. Looks like she's the fool in the end.

"Come on, Buttercup!"

Bog's ears perk at the familiar voice and he pokes his head out of the bush he's hiding in. His sharp blue eyes scan the park for a familiar face in the waning light.

There's no way his ex could be here! That would be too cruel of the universe!

"Go away, Roland!"

That is not his former love. This woman sounds dangerous to the health of the blonde ponce and Bog can't help the doggy smile gracing his muzzle at the thought. It would make him feel so much better to watch one of the persons responsible for his bad circumstances writhing on the ground in pain.

He finally spots the pair along one of the park's paths and he can't resist the pull to leave his hiding place. Even though her voice had sounded so strong and violent, he can clearly see how uncomfortable she looks being around the other man. Her annoyance is only a mask to cover up her uncertainty, a familiar mask that he sometimes wore himself.

It doesn't take him long for his four legs to cover the distance as he lopes as silently as possible. They don't notice him. The woman is too busy trying to keep the distance between her and Roland without being forced to turn her back on him, while also trying to keep him from being able to touch her.

Bog weighs his options. As much as he'd love to bite Roland, there is a law on dogs who bite, so that isn't an option. Barking at him doesn't seem like a good idea because he might very well be seen as a danger and as with biting, that's not an option either. Maybe he could play being a good pet and hope the woman doesn't scream like the others that have caught sight of him.

He swallows the urge to growl as Roland prattles on about giving him another chance and that it was a big misunderstanding. Whatever happened, Bog is sure was premeditated on the man's part...

"You cheated on me on our wedding day, remember? As if that could be a misunderstanding," the woman scoffs.

Oh, ouch!

That biting thing is looking more like an option by the minute.

Bog quickly strides closer and sharp white fangs glint from the lighted lampposts as Roland tries taking the woman in his arms to forcefully kiss her. Luckily for Roland, the woman escapes his grasp, pushes him, and jumps backward to put distance between them.

She doesn't notice that she nearly collides into the large dog approaching as she keeps her attention fully on her attacker. She doesn't notice as Bog sits down next to her. She does notice when Roland turns his attention back to her and screams, pointing to something at her elbow.

Bog looks calmly up to the startled amber eyes peering down at him before he turns his own attention back to the squealing man before them. He shuffles a little to ensure that his seated form is between the two. It is the woman's fight and he doesn't want to unnecessarily interfere but he will make sure that Roland can't grab her again.

"What is that thing?" Roland questions.

"This is an animal called a dog, Roland," the woman drawls.

"I know that, Marianne," Roland snaps back.

Ask a stupid question, get a stupid answer. What else was the idiot expecting? At least he now knows the woman's name. Bog takes the opportunity to yawn widely, showcasing his sharp teeth, and snorts as Roland takes a few steps back.

The hesitant fingers on the top of his head make him tilt his head more into her touch and he can't help the doggy grin as she starts petting him without hesitation. He's glad that Marianne doesn't seem frightened of him. He knows what he looks like, after all. If his eyes were red and his fur more black then one could mistake him for the Black Shuck of his father's homeland.

An unfortunate side-effect of her confidence is Roland's attempt at coming closer, an aborted attempt as Bog makes his feelings clear by bearing his teeth and growling at him.

"For the last time, we are through, Roland," Marianne states firmly. "I'll forgive you for what you did to me because I will not let any part of you control any part of me but I also will not take you back. Leave me alone!"

Bog accents her speech by standing up on all four legs and taking a growling step toward Roland. No doubt that he'd be joining Marianne in her laughter if he was still human but instead, Bog wags his tail happily as Roland squeals again before running in the opposite direction.

The victory is cut short and Bog can't help the yelp that escapes him as a metal wire is looped over his head and tightened around his neck. How did he forget the dogcatcher? The burly woman's grip on the metal pole is strong but there is no way that he is going to the shelter.

There's no way he'd last. Forget about the humiliation of going to doggy jail, it'll be impossible for him to be turned back to normal. He'd be stuck there until they euthanized him because no one would adopt a dog like him.

"What are you doing?" Marianne asks.

"What does it look like? I'm taking this dog to the animal shelter," the dogcatcher answers.

"You can't do that!" Marianne protests. "He's...uh...he's my dog!"

Bog momentarily stops his backward struggle and blinks up at her. Was she really going to defend him? Unfortunately, it doesn't look like the dogcatcher believes her and Bog pulls harder.

"Your dog? Okay, so where is the dog's license or it's collar and leash?" the dogcatcher questions.

"Uh...at home?" Marianne answers. "Yes, they're at home."

"It's illegal to walk a dog in public areas without a collar and leash," the dogcatcher remarks.

"I wasn't walking him," Marianne defends. "He's supposed to be at home...getting a bath. That's why he isn't wearing his collar."

"The dog is giving itself a bath," the dogcatcher drawls.

"No, of course not. My sister is supposed to be giving him a bath but he must have escaped and come after me," Marianne continues.

"Alright. What's the name?" the dogcatcher asks.

"My sister's name?" Marianne questions.

"The dog's name," the dogcatcher answers.

"Oh, right. Well, he's...uh...he's new and we haven't really decided on a permanent name yet," Marianne mutters.

"Fine. Come into the shelter tomorrow with your ownership papers and pick the dog up," the dogcatcher comments, tugging on the pole harder.

"You can't take him!" Marianne protests. "He's also my emotional support animal and I need him. He keeps me from killing my ex-fiance."

This woman is a gem! If only his present vocal cords could handle laughter. Even the dogcatcher looks ready to laugh. Scratch that, that was definitely a chuckle he heard.

"Okay, look, Girly, we both know that you're lying through your teeth. I've been after this dog for three days," the dogcatcher admits.

"Three days? The poor dog," Marianne murmurs. "But he isn't a dangerous animal. Surely, you saw how he kept that jerk from bothering me any further and he wasn't aggressive at all. What's the harm in letting me take him?"

"You really want him?" the dogcatcher questions in surprise.

"Yes!" Marianne states firmly.

Bog takes the opportunity to grab the metal pole in his jaws and pulls firmly, wrenching it out of the dogcatcher's hand. He doesn't bother running away but instead moves to sit next to Marianne to make his sentiments known. He knows that the dogcatcher knows that he can outrun her. After all, he's been doing it for three days.

"This isn't going to be easy to explain to my boss," the dogcatcher mutters.

"Explain how much money you're saving. Just think of the cost even keeping him overnight will be. A big dog like that would be taxing on the shelter," Marianne remarks. "I'll even be nice and donate money."

"I can't believe that I'm going to do this," the dogcatcher groans.

Bog wags his tail happily as the dogcatcher pulls out a leash from her belt and he stands obediently still as she loops it around his neck before taking off the wire. He knew he always liked Steph. She did have a soft spot beneath her gruff exterior.

"Better make sure you get papers and license for him tomorrow," Steph warns, handing the leash to Marianne. "It'll also be smart to take him to the vet for a check-up and schedule him to be neutered."

Scratch that! Steph is a terrible person! Tucking his tail beneath him, Bog cowers behind Marianne and glares at the other woman.

"The only one I'm going to neuter is Roland," Marianne comments. "The dog is keeping his balls."

I love this woman! She's such a saint!

Marianne laughs as Bog stands on his hind legs and covers her face with licks. He didn't care about dignity or that this is the equivalent of kissing. This woman deserves praise and it's the best that he can come up with in this form.

He obediently removes his front paws from her shoulders and returns to sitting on the ground at her pushing but it doesn't stop his tail from wagging fiercely. It won't be so bad being Marianne's pet dog. It can't be any worse than what he's dealt with for four days.

"Alright, boy. This is your last chance to speak your mind," Marianne chuckles. "Come with me and you'll get free food, a warm house to sleep in, and certain obligations. Those obligations are to be good and keep Roland away from me. Do we have a deal?"

Bog lifts his front right paw and holds it out to her. He'll keep the deal for however long he's stuck in this form.

"I think I'll call you King," Marianne comments, shaking his paw.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> P.S. Bog is a Scottish Deerhound.


	2. Fur Better or Worse

It could be worse.

He may still be a dog but at least he's no longer on the run.

Marianne Douglas saved him from a humiliating and possibly deadly trip to the shelter. She also gave him a name similar to his own. Now they're on their way to the local pet store to buy dog food.

He doesn't care that he has to eat dog food. It'll be a lot better than what he's been eating, at least, and he can have his stomach full again. Maybe she'll even give him a bath and get rid of this dreadful itchy feeling.

Sitting down as Marianne pauses in her jog at a red crosswalk signal, Bog takes the moment to look around his hometown. Just how long has it been since he's been home? Sure, he's been here for the past three and a half days but he's been too busy trying not to get caught to take a good look around.

That sounded familiar.

Bog lets out a rough sigh before resuming his brisk walk beside Marianne as the crosswalk changes colors. His mother has been complaining that he's been too busy every time he manages to call her. The only times he even sees her is when she comes to visit him and the last time was three months ago.

He's just been busy.

Too busy.

Between work and spending time with his ex, he barely had any free time that wasn't devoted to sleeping. Other than Aura Plum and her strange white cat, he didn't really know anyone outside of his work and even then he barely knew his fellow employees except in passing.

"Here we are, King," Marianne announces, opening the door for him to go through.

Bog obediently walks into the pet store with Marianne following after. The smells greeting him tempt him with their deliciousness and his stomach growls in response.

"We're closing in a few minutes," the clerk warns out of sight.

He can't help the whine that slips past. To be so close to getting a full stomach again, just to be turned away, is a crushing disappointment.

"You wouldn't let a poor dog starve, would you?" Marianne questions.

"Well, if it's just food you need then a few minutes past closing shouldn't hurt," the man chuckles.

"It might be more than a few minutes," Marianne comments. "He's new and I'm not exactly sure which kind I should get him."

"I can help with that. I'm Brutus Mitchell," Brutus starts before stopping in shock as he turns the corner. "Isn't that the dog Steph has been trying to catch for the past three days?"

"You know about him?" Marianne ask.

"I think most of the city knows about him," Brutus remarks. "He scared my cousin Trent half to death four evenings ago. Dog didn't do nothing bad, though, just took off running when Trent had seen him."

So that who's housesitting for his mother. He almost felt ashamed for terrifying the poor man.

Almost.

Trent was always too easy to scare. Steph had far too much fun at his expense when they were in school. It's kind of hard to believe that they've been married for four years already.

"King is a good dog and the perfect dog for me," Marianne states. "My ex was harassing me in the park and King scared him off by just walking up and sitting down next to me. Took a little bit to convince Mrs Miles to let me keep him and I want to make sure I get the right food for him."

"I had a high school friend that went by that name. Best friend a person could have," Brutus comments before bending down to offer his hand to Bog. "Now, let's take a look at this King and see what food is best for him."

Bog tries to cower behind Marianne as Brutus starts prodding him but the man's large hand manages to keep him in place as he runs his other hand across his body. He hated physicals!

Feeling his hind leg being lifted, Bog pulls hard enough to break free of Brutus' grip and runs behind Marianne to glare at him.

"I don't think he's trusting anybody near that part of his anatomy after Mrs Miles' suggestion. King is not neutered and he's staying that way," Marianne chuckles, reaching to scratch Bog's neck.

"Good, because if you had wanted him neutered, I would have had to refuse," Brutus remarks. "I'm afraid I got some bad news for you."

"Bad news? What bad news? He's fine, isn't he?" Marianne questions worriedly.

"He looks healthy to me, maybe a little skinny but healthy. That's not the bad news, though," Brutus answers. "He's not a stray. He's got an owner somewhere."

"Are you sure?" Marianne asks.

Bog licks Marianne's hand at the sorrow lacing her voice. It'd be wrong to give her false hope about him staying her dog when he has no intentions on staying a dog but hearing her disappointment at losing him hurt his already pained heart.

"For starters, if it wasn't for those blue eyes, I would say that he's a pureblood Scottish Deerhound. A dog like that wouldn't be without an owner, even a partial one like he obviously is," Brutus comments. "Another thing is how well groomed he is underneath all that muck. Didn't see one flea or tick and a feral dog wouldn't have nails that long. Not that they're that long but longer than a feral dog's nails would be. Trent spotted him four days ago, so he's been missing from his owner for at least that long. I'd wager that he hasn't been on his own even a whole week, yet."

"Oh," Marianne murmurs sadly. "I mean, it's great that he has an owner and all. I'm still going to need dog food for him and I need to know if you have any ideas on how to find his owner since he doesn't have any ID."

"You don't need to take care of him. I can give Steph a call and the shelter will take care of him until his owner can pick him up," Brutus explains.

Bog voices his displeasure loudly. Just because he doesn't want to give Marianne false hope, doesn't mean he's willing to go to the shelter. To go there means his death since they'd only hold him for so long.

"I'll take care of him," Marianne states firmly, petting Bog's wiry coat. "As I told Mrs Miles when I was trying to convince her to let me take him, a big dog like this would be taxing on the shelter. Besides, who knows how long his owner will take to find him. It could be weeks. He'd be miserable being locked up in doggy jail."

This woman is definitely his favorite person! He'll have to do something for her in return once he manages to get back to normal.

Brutus nods before guiding them to the aisle with the dog food and starts listing off the food recommended for large dogs, their ingredients, and feeding recommendations. Boring. Though, Marianne looks to be absorbing all the information.

Giving a yawn, Bog lays down on the cement floor and tunes the ongoing conversation out as his blue eyes close. Being surrounded by food but being unable to eat any of it is tiring. Or maybe that's just the strain from the past four days catching up to him.

He doesn't notice as the minutes pass and Marianne lets go of the leash or as Brutus locks the front door. He doesn't realize as he's left in the food aisle alone or as the cash register beeps and items are packed into bags.

"Come on, King, time to wake up," Marianne coaxes, scratching the side of his jaw.

Bog yawns again before looking up at her groggily. When did he fall asleep?

He stretches and stands as she tugs on the leash, following her to the front of the store. The collection of shopping bags waiting at the door makes him cock his head. When did Marianne buy all that?

"So, I'll see you tomorrow," Brutus comments, unlocking the front door.

Tomorrow? Why do they need to come back tomorrow? Just how much has he missed?

"I'll make sure to bring my truck this time," Marianne chuckles. "Oh, I forgot. Do I still need to buy a license for him?"

"Let me talk to Benny about that," Brutus answers. "The shelter might issue you a temporary one until the time his owner comes to claim him. Are you sure you want to pay all this for a dog you can't even keep?"

"Positive. King helped me and now I'll help him," Marianne affirms.

If it wasn't for Brutus' eyes widening as Marianne picks up all the bags with her unoccupied hand, Bog wouldn't have given it a thought but looking closer at the bags, they clearly look heavy. She obviously has no problems as she swings the bags over her shoulder and thanks Brutus as he holds the door open for them.

Tough girl.

"Let's go, King!" Marianne calls. "The quicker we get to my place, the quicker you can get something to eat."

Bog doesn't need to be told twice, easily keeping up with her as she starts jogging again, the added weight not slowing her down in the slightest.

By now the only light illuminating the late spring night is street lights and the rising full moon but Marianne shows no fear as she travels down the streets. His curiosity at the petite woman grows as they run farther and farther away from the small city's center. Past the clustered neighborhoods, past even the suburban neighborhoods, and nearing to the outskirts where the street lights become fewer and fewer.

Her stamina is impressive! He can't even hear her breathing getting heavy and here he is panting like...well, like a dog.

They turn onto a familiar road and his curiosity hits an all-time high as they pass the lane that would lead to his childhood home. There's only one house at the end of this road but it couldn't be hers. She's too sensible to be marrying a Kindell and he can't remember his mother saying anything about the Kindells selling.

Soon enough, they reach the large ornate gate blocking the road and Marianne slows her pace to push the smaller side-gate open to let him through before following.

That's different. The Kindells always had that gate locked and the alarm system on, even if they never had any visitors. Even the cameras adorning the high stone walls appear to be off.

Without any way to voice the questions buzzing around his head, Bog mentally shrugs and follows Marianne down the road with excitement. The lampposts on both sides of the road are their only light as they make their way farther through the tunnel of trees. His tail wags happily and he barely keeps from going faster than the leash around his neck permits. He's finally going to be able to see the Forest Manor! Who knew that the worst time of his life could result in the fulfillment of a childhood dream?

Oh, no!

No, no, no, no!

Not now!

Please, God, if you're listening please don't let me make a bigger fool out of myself than I already am!

The uncomfortable sensation in his stomach finally becomes too much and Bog slows his stride down before stopping. He grunts slightly as the leash becomes taut just before Marianne notices his frozen figure.

"Huh? What's wrong, King?" Marianne questions.

For a moment, he wonders how less embarrassing this would be if he could actually answer her but that thought is quickly thrown away. It'll be mortifying either way. More so, if she knew that he is actually a human stuck in a dog's body.

Now, how would a dog explain this dilemma?

"Ah, so that's the problem," Marianne hums as Bog sniffs the lamppost. "Well, go on, I'll wait."

Bog huffs and glares at Marianne. There is no way he's doing his business with her watching!

He's sure that if he had the ability to blush, he'd be red from toe to floppy ear as Marianne laughs and turns to look the other way. Maybe this isn't going to be as easy as he thought.


	3. Doggone It!

He had thought that only the embarrassment of no privacy would be the worst of it. But no. That was far from the end of it and the day hadn't even ended.

After the call of nature was finished, he finally got to see the Forest Manor once they cleared the tunnel of trees and jogged into the large courtyard. The old grand Victorian gothic-style mansion was everything his mother had told him about and more.

Dark grey stone made up much of the large building, along with light grey wood and black shingles. It was four stories with the glass-enclosed tower included and the front porch's roof doubled as a balcony. An impressive structure, for sure. And also one that looked in need of some serious repair.

Bog hadn't been able to see that much of it with only moonlight and lampposts as light but what he did see had made his heart ache for his mother. Clearly, the old building was not well-cared for in the past few decades and he knew the sight would have broken his mother's heart. She had always spoken of how grand the Forest Manor was before the Kindells locked everyone out. While it was definitely still grand, it looked near dilapidated.

Instead of heading to the front door, Marianne had led him around the vine-covered structure and through the gated middle archway of the converted carriage house to the back. What was clearly once a kitchen garden was nothing but an overgrown patch of weeds and Bog had nearly growled as the long tendrils brushed teasingly against his wiry fur as they walked around the beds toward the covered stone patio at the back of the manor.

"Memo to self, quit procrastinating and mow the back yard," Marianne muttered, using her foot to scratch where the weeds tickled the exposed parts of her opposite leg.

Bog had huffed his agreement as he shook himself while she was busy unlocking the back door and he obediently followed as she went inside the darkened doorway. If he had only known the humiliation to come, he may not have been so eager to enter.

Marianne had immediately given him three different bowls with three different flavors of dry dog food for him to try and he was too busy filling his stomach to really take notice of the large kitchen they were in. He hadn't paid any attention as the brunette took the rest of the bags into the adjoining room and he barely acknowledged the sound of running water.

It wasn't until he finished off the one bowl of kibble, the other two not being very appealing to him, that he noticed that the kitchen had a bed and a dresser on one side of the room. His intent to investigate had come to a halt when Marianne reentered the kitchen and grabbed the looped leash still adorning his neck and led him into the adjoining room.

Bog had stupidly been overjoyed when he noticed the tub half-filled with water. He had been ecstatic at the thought of finally being clean and removing the layer of filth clinging to him...until he realized exactly what Marianne would have to do.

She must have sensed that he would be skittish because the bathroom door was shut seconds after he walked through. Not that he would have had a chance to escape since his rescuer was more than she appeared. The deceptively petite woman had easily lifted him into the waiting water before proceeding to touch him in places that no woman has touched since he was a small boy being bathed by his mother.

Washed, rinsed, and dried, his skin was still tingling as Marianne fitted a brand new collar around his neck before shooing him out of the bathroom for her to clean up. The sound of the running shower was a welcome relief as he did his own bit of cleaning up, grateful that she hadn't noticed his embarrassing reaction to her being handsy with his body.

He has to admit that it wasn't that he didn't enjoy it as she covered every inch of him with her touch but here is this kind, smart, strong, beautiful woman who unselfishly took in a stray animal to care for until its master came to claim it and he's a pervert who's enjoying her ignorance at his true identity. Worse of all, his only regrets are about him being a dog and being unable to fully enjoy his present predicament.

He's a terrible person!

Only a terrible person would break up with their longtime girlfriend, who they were planning to marry, and find any enjoyment at being cursed! That's why Plum cursed him. To punish him for being a terrible person. It's the only explanation for such torture.

"It's fine, Dad. I can handle Roland," Marianne assures, petting Bog's fur. "Come on, Dad, you know me. When have I ever done something like that?"

Bog takes a peek from behind his paws laying across his snout as Marianne laughs at her father's response but he promptly closes his eyes again at the sight greeting him.

He had just gotten his reaction under control and decided to rest on an actual bed for the first time in days when Marianne had come out of the bathroom in nothing but a towel. He had been unable to look away as she walked to her dresser and he nearly yelped as she discarded the towel before putting on panties. Then, instead of finishing dressing, Marianne answered her cell phone as it rang merrily and sat right down next to him on the bed.

What is wrong with this woman? Surely it isn't normal to talk on the phone while half-naked!

Or maybe it is and he's the weird one.

"Okay, okay, I get the point," Marianne laughs. "But this time I'm responsible. Honest! I even got a dog. Temporarily, anyway."

It doesn't take long for the situation to be explained and for Marianne to bid her father goodnight. Movement and the sound of rustling cloth reaching his ears make Bog chance another peek and he breathes a sigh of relief as her bare body is covered by an old large Deep Purple t-shirt that barely conceals the lilac frilly.

The call of nature is less embarrassing this time as Marianne opens the back door to allow him to go out into fenced yard alone and waits inside until his return. After days of sleeping on the hard cold ground, he doesn't even bother to care as he jumps onto the large soft bed when she pats the unoccupied side.

So soft. So warm. So comfortable. He's never going to take his own bed for granted again. No more falling asleep at the desk, no siree.

Morning comes too soon and Bogs give a jaw-cracking yawn before snuggling closer to the soft warmth he's against, reluctant to give up his dreams.

It was such a nice dream, too. Not that he could actually remember all of it at the moment but he knows he was human, he thinks, and there was this beautiful girl with him and they were doing something. What was it? Dancing?

No, that can't be it. Why would they be dancing in the forest in the middle of the night?

Bog gives a groaning sigh in disappointment as the dream gets vaguer and vaguer. He knows it was a good dream, even if it can't remember it.

Giving another yawn, his trailing tongue catches the taste of something salty but sweet and he idly licks the smooth spot. What is that? A few more licks don't bring any answers to his question and he reluctantly leaves behind his chance of going back to the beautiful dream. Groggy blue eyes open to investigate before widening in shock at the sight in front of him.

He quickly looks up to Marianne's face and breathes a sigh of relief at her sleeping state, though the cute blush across her lightly freckled nose is evidence that his accidental amorous affections managed to intrude into her dreams. Backing away from Marianne's exposed chest reveals another problem and Bog can't help glaring at the telltale red gleaming brightly against his blue-gray fur-covered stomach.

Yep.

There's no doubt about it.

He's definitely going to die of embarrassment.


	4. Barking up the Wrong Tree

Persistent little squirrel.

Squirrel? Why on earth would he compare that idiot to a squirrel? Maybe this dog body is affecting his brain.

Bog snorts at his own thoughts and yawns, snorting again as Roland scuttles backward from the gate. Oh for the ability to laugh! The man is just so jumpy and he's not even doing anything but looking at him.

"Come on, Buttercup! I know you can hear me!" Roland remarks loudly.

Cocking his head back toward the tunnel of trees, Bog gives a doggy grin at the sound of music he can hear playing from the house. It's so nice to be trusted! She obviously thought he could handle this on his own and he knows the blinking red light on the nearest camera was just her making sure that Roland didn't do anything to him.

"Call off your...dog and let's talk!" Roland tries.

Seriously? He's the only who talked in those conversations. Mostly about giving him a second chance and taking him back. She's ignoring him and he still can't take a hint.

He really is something special, isn't he?

Bog groans as Roland start prattling on in his usual manner. Maybe the ponce loved the sound of his own voice as much as he loved his own looks. It sure seems like it.

Laying down in front of the gate, Bog tunes out the rehearsed speech but keeps his blue eyes fixated on Roland as he lays his long snout on his folded paws. It's a pity he managed to find out where Marianne lived.

Bog feels a pang of guilt at that. The woman had done such nice things for him and he felt terrible for adding more trouble to her life by being indirectly responsible for Roland's discovery.

Everything had been going so well, too.

He had managed to get his hormones under control before Marianne had woken up and she had immediately let him out into the back yard before getting a bowl of dog food ready for him. She had even given him a few pieces of bacon that she made for her own breakfast, despite her claim that she was immune to 'puppy-eyes'. He had put every acting skill he possessed to use and pleaded as if his life depended on it.

For with bacon, there is no shame in begging.

Another thing without shame is Marianne when it comes to changing her clothes in front of him and Bog can't tell if that's a good thing or not. He just knows that it is definitely going to test his moral character if he stays a dog for much longer.

He hadn't had that much time to look around his temporary home before Marianne clipped a new leash to his collar and led him into the converted carriage house and into the back seat of her four-door red truck. The large ornate gate had parted automatically as the vehicle neared it and Bog had watched with fascination as it closed behind them.

It was another new thing concerning the Forest Manor that he knew with certainty that wasn't there before. Those gates had always been opened manually the few times he had glimpsed anyone leaving or entering the private property. His frustration at not being able to get his questions answered had made him a little grumpy but Marianne had excused his behavior as car sickness.

The charming woman had seemed to forget that he was just a dog and had filled the morning talking to him as if he was human, even explaining to him about what she was planning to do to find his owner and reassuring him that she would take care of him until he was returned home.

It had felt wonderful but also strange. Strange that as a dog he was being treated more like a human being than when he was still human. He had never realized how lonely he's been since he moved away over eight years ago and he listened attentively as the ride from the manor toward the business district of his hometown provided him with a lot of information about his rescuer.

He had learned about her widowed father, who owned several businesses, and her little sister, who is currently at a surfing competition as a top competitor. He had learned the painful and all too familiar truth about her false relationship with Roland, though he was luckier than her by finding out the truth before wedding preparations were made. He even found out that she's been single for the past year and a half since the failed wedding and that she planned to stay that way.

Bog huffs in amusement at the remembrance of how that knowledge came about.

Steph had just arrived at the animal shelter when they pulled up and had insisted to be the one to help fill out the information to search for his non-existent owner. Somehow, the two women had gotten talking about Steph and Trent's upcoming anniversary which resulted in Marianne's own relationship status.

He had never known Steph to be the gushing kind of woman and he had been shocked as she positively beamed about her happy marriage before proceeding to try and suggest several available bachelors to Marianne. The brunette had only laughed before grabbing Bog's right paw between her two hands.

"If I find a guy that takes me by the hand and looks me in the eye and I don't want to hit him, then I'll consider it," Marianne commented, winking at Bog. "But guys like that don't exist, only dogs. Right, King?"

Bog had nearly choked when Steph commented that maybe King's owner is a single man and suggested to Marianne that she marry him to keep the dog. What happened to the anti-matchmaker he used to know? The Steph he knew passionately disliked people who meddled in other peoples' love life.

Heck, you were guaranteed a black eye if you even suggested anything pertaining to romantic hints!

He had never been so happy to see Benny as when the short man had interrupted Marianne's reply to inform Steph that her frantic husband was on the phone. Something about their two-year-old doing something to their cat but Bog didn't wait to hear it all. He pulled the leash hard enough to drag a laughing Marianne out of that cursed place.

However, that meant that it was time to visit the Brutus' veterinary clinic that was adjacent to his pet store. Everything had seemed fine at first as the large man proceeded to take Bog's measurements and weight but then Bog learned two things. One, how veterinarians manage to get an exact temperature of an animal and two, Marianne would probably win a wrestling match against the human him.

Marianne had been too distracted soothing him from the humiliating examination to notice the green car following them back to the Forest Manor. If it wasn't for her stopping after the driveway gate closed for her to lock the side gate to allow him full run of the property, they wouldn't have even noticed Roland's approach. Though, any smugness on Roland's part was easily squashed as Bog worked out his earlier frustrations by chasing the soft-top convertible back to the main road.

Only Marianne's obvious worry had kept Bog from being too proud as he pranced back to her. She had been so relieved that he came back that he couldn't help feel heartbroken at the knowledge that he would break her heart when he found a way to get back to normal.

Bog groans as Roland reaches the end of his long-winded speech and starts a pitiful serenade. What idiot thinks that using a song about a man cheating on his girlfriend is romantic in any way? Apparently, the same idiot who can't take a hint that he's unwanted despite being chased off four hours ago.

Why did Roland have to come back? Wasn't being chased down the road enough to encourage him to stay away? Did he really think Marianne was joking when she threatened to break every bone in his body that was precious to him, starting with the pelvic area?

Maybe calling Roland an idiot is an insult to idiots.

An off-key high note causes Bog to involuntarily howl his own misery. He desperately wants to laugh as Roland stops mid-screech and scrambles closer to his car but that desire is cut short when the shaking man grabs a baseball bat from the back seat.

Oh, come on! If anyone is a danger to the public, it's Roland with his terrible singing!

Bog's ear twitches backward at the crunch of gravel and he turns his head to watch as Marianne walks down the lane. The splatter of white paint adorning her grey overalls indicates what she started working on after the annoying pest showed up to interrupt the cleaning of the overgrown kitchen garden and Bog grows even more curious at what the rest of the house looks like. Such a pity that she won't let him in any other room except the fully-remodeled kitchen.

"Alright, Roland," Marianne sighs, brushing a paint-smeared hand through her short brown hair. "We both know that us getting back together is NOT going to happen. So, what is it that you really want?"

"I don't want anything...well, except us being together again," Roland amends, chuckling uneasily.

"You disappear after I break off the wedding, only to show up out of nowhere a few days ago and you really expect me to believe that what you really want is us together again? Try another one," Marianne remarks.

"I was...uh...I was letting you cool off," Roland stammers.

"Roland," Marianne warns with a growl.

"I need some money," Roland admits.

Disbelief courses through Bog at the ponce's audacity and he can't help as his lower jaw drops. Is this guy for real? Who asks an ex-fiance that they cheated on for money?

His shock is shared by Marianne and it takes her a few minutes of stunned silence before giving her suggestion about him getting a job.

"But I need the money now or we'll be kicked out!" Roland whines. "Angelina's stupid boyfriend broke up with her before he paid this month's rent. I'll be homeless, Marianne. Homeless!"

Snorting at the man's dramatics as Roland starts sobbing at the thought of being homeless, Bog doesn't feel an ounce of sympathy at the plight of his ex-girlfriend and her lover. Serves them right for playing him!

"Me and my big heart," Marianne mutters before sighing. "I can't stand watching dumb animals suffer."

Bog groans as Marianne orders him to stand down and unlocks the side gate for Roland to come in. He makes sure to walk beside her as they make their way to the manor to discourage any attempts at unwanted bodily contact, glaring at the sniffling idiot as he trails behind them.

It's not that he can't understand feeling sympathy for someone that's hurting but considering that this is one of the people responsible for his broken heart and present circumstance, Bog can't help feeling slightly angry with Marianne for taking pity on Roland.

What is she thinking? Giving him money will only encourage Roland to return, thinking he has a chance with her, which he doesn't. Right?

Bog tries to shake off the creeping fear. It was ridiculous. It didn't make any sense to him why he would be worried that Marianne would help Roland.

Maybe it's because he doesn't want to see her get hurt.

Yeah, that must be it. She saved me and now I want to protect her. Perfectly natural.

"This place is a dump," Roland sneers as they walk into the courtyard.

"Mouth shut and ears open, Roland!" Marianne orders. "I'm not going to give you any money but I will let you work for it. I need some supplies which I forgot to pick up this morning. I was going to go pick them up tomorrow but since you're here, you can do it for me. If you get them for me before the store closes..."

"But it's already past four o'clock!" Roland interrupts.

"I'll pay you enough to cover your rent and I may even talk to Dad about him considering hiring you back," Marianne continues before holding a hand up at his bright smile. "BUT! You will not bother me again or I will call the cops. Do I make myself clear?"

Bog blocks Roland's attempt to follow Marianne in through the front door and gives a grumbling growl to discourage him. It's bad enough that he interrupted Marianne's explanation of how she came into possession of the Kindell's coveted property but there's no way he's letting the blonde ponce see the inside of the Forest Manor before he gets a chance to.

"Alright, here's the list," Marianne comments, handing Roland a folded sheet of paper. "You have to get exactly what's on that list. Nothing more, nothing less. The store in town is already expecting my order, so it shouldn't take you that long to get what I want. Here's enough money to cover the supplies."

Bog snorts as he watches the green car drive farther away from the gate. He had little expectation that Roland would be back with Marianne's money or her supplies.

Looking up at Marianne once she finishes locking the side gate, he tries his best to convey his thoughts at her foolish action. She must've read the annoyance in his blue eyes loud and clear because she starts laughing and scratches his neck.

"Yeah, I know. He'll probably screw this up," Marianne chuckles. "But at least he left without complaint. Come on, King, let's get back to the house."


	5. Whimper and Whine

Plum was right.

He really is a dog. Unpleasant and contemptible.

How had his life turned out like this?!

Well, he knows how but it sure wasn't his intention. Everything had just seemed so easy back when he was younger.

It seems almost like yesterday that he and the rest of the gang were making fun of Trent's poor attempts to impress Steph and Steph's poor attempts at pretending that she wasn't interested. Just yesterday that he was laughing at Brutus' complaints at being Old Doc Gus' assistant and Benny's moaning at filing the eccentric veterinarian's poorly-written paperwork.

Then he took that job.

Bigger paycheck and more opportunities but less free time. Commute became too much after several months and he had to move to the cramped little apartment in a rundown old building nearly sixty miles from everything he's ever known.

It was a gradual breaking away. So much so, that he hadn't noticed as his days became a routine of eat, work, sleep, and repeat the next day.

Slowly he started talking less and less to his best friends until he stopped altogether. He can't remember the last time he saw them in-person. He knows it was before Steph and Trent's wedding, which he couldn't attend since he was working that day. He doesn't even know the name of their second kid or even the name of Benny's wife. He can't even remember if Brutus is married or not!

What happened?

When had he lost who he was?

Bog's whole body heaves with a sigh as the laughter of children reaches his ears and he moves his position slightly to better see the two youngsters playing farther away. When was the last time he even laughed or done anything fun?

Meeting Angelina months after he moved turned out to be the worst part of it all. She slowly started consuming his life as much as his work did. First as a sorta friend and then as a girlfriend nearly a year and a half later. Maybe he would have realized how lonely he was if she hadn't been around to ease the ache. After all, he was seriously contemplating moving back home around the time he met her and he probably would have had he not started having feelings for her by the time his apartment's lease was up.

Once his anger toward their failed relationship cooled, it was clear that it wasn't love guiding his heart concerning her but desperation caused by loneliness.

Sure, the old him would have still helped her out when she begged for help to get out of her own cramped apartment. He lived in the same building, after all, and he knew how dangerous the neighborhood was. But he probably wouldn't have agreed to help her with her rent when she got an apartment in one of the most expensive buildings in the city. He would have stuck with his suggestions of cheaper buildings that still offered the security features that she claimed was the reason for her expensive choice and not caved under her crying and painful insinuations about him not caring about her welfare. He may have still helped her out the first few months after she lost her job but he's quite sure that he wouldn't have paid her bills for the last three years as she moaned about being unable to find a job she could work at.

Maybe he had never loved her. Maybe he just loved the feeling of not being alone. That only makes him feel worse. She may have used him for his money but he also used her. How was he any different from her and Roland?

Trent's startled scream breaks Bog from his musing and he watches in amusement at the chaos he can see happening from his perch on top of the stone wall. Four-year-old Maxine had apparently figured out how to work the latches and now the barnyard is full of assorted animals. The man should have known better than to bring his children with him. There are just too many opportunities for mischief at Bog's childhood home.

Bog turns his attention to the cabin he can barely see past the dense trees and heaves another sigh. His mother will be coming home in a few more days and his heart breaks all the more at the thought of what will happen if he doesn't return to normal before she's alerted to his disappearance.

He's known the story surrounding the Forest Manor since he was a small boy or at least what he thought was the whole the story. It wasn't until Roland's unexpected return yesterday with the requested supplies that Bog became aware that his mother hadn't told him everything.

Bog had eagerly snuck in through the front door as Marianne escorted Roland off the property after paying him the agreed amount and he'd been amazed at what he saw. While the outside looked dilapidated, the inside was far from it, despite its obvious work-in-progress feel with miscellaneous debris scattered everywhere.

He had vacated the half-finished large foyer almost immediately to keep from being noticed but entering the fully-finished parlor first had been a mistake. The blue eyes and extremely familiar visage staring back at him from over the fireplace mantle had caused him to freeze in the doorway.

His mother had commented several times that he had his father's eyes or his smile or some other small insignificant detail but he never knew that the man staring back at him from the portrait was his exact duplicate. His mother had no photos for him to see the man that sired him, only stories that she lovingly told him every chance she got. Stories that he eagerly listened to in the hope to know the man that was long dead before he was born.

It hadn't taken Marianne long to notice his stunned form and she promptly locked him in the kitchen for fear of him being harmed by the scattered debris. He wanted to know more than what she explained earlier about how Kindell's attempt to swindle her and her father had backfired. He wanted to know why she was not only fixing up the old house but also restoring it to the way it was before the Kindells took over it.

Somehow she managed to understand his desire, most of it anyway, and told him the tale of the Forest Manor's true owner as she fixed dinner.

He had heard all of it from his mother, a tale of romance between a business world prince and a retail worker commoner that ended in tragedy when Loch King died from a convenience store robbery gone wrong after less than a month of being married. But Bog hadn't known Jefferey Kindell had contested the will that left everything to his cousin's widow, somehow getting the courts in his favor and forcing his mother out of her home with only those things that he said belonged to her.

His mother had only told him that an error had caused her to lose everything that belonged to her husband. That the marriage was too new and that the changes for the will with her being his wife and legal heir had not gone into effect by the time of his father's death.

At least his anger at the truth that Kindell had deliberately stolen from his mother was shared by Marianne. She had cackled as she explained that getting the property wasn't the only thing Kindell had to give up in an effort to stay out of court and possibly jail.

Turnabout is fair play, after all, and a thief will always have to pay his due in the end.

Bedding down for the second night in Marianne's bed wasn't as easy as the day before. His mind was too full and it hadn't taken him long to realize how selfish he was. After everything his mother has been through, he's the one who causes her the most pain and it took Marianne for him to realize it. Five days as a dog and not once did he think about his mother other than the fact that he needed her and she wasn't around.

As bad as he's treated his friends and even Angelina, his worst crime is what he did to the woman who raised him all by herself. A short phone call every two or three days, sometimes only once a week if his work piled up, and he doesn't even remember the last time he's been home.

How could he have done this to her?

Why did it take so long for him to notice how much he hurts her?

Was he really so selfish that he never saw the pain his mother was in?

He had spent most of his life with plans and dreams of restoring the Forest Manor to his mother, thinking of how happy she would be to at least get that small portion of his father back. It was what motivated him to take that job. Everyone knew that Kindell was greedy and Bog was sure that if he got enough money saved that he could tempt him into selling the property to him.

But he had never told his mother what he had planned. How must he have broken her heart when he moved away to chase after money? She had always said how proud she was of him and that she understood but he never should have abandoned her.

The thoughts of the pain he put his mother in tormented him through the night. Even reaching into his dreams with a horrible vision of searching everywhere for her but no one knew where she was or even who she was. His scream from the dream had translated into a loud bark that woke both him and Marianne up.

The groggy woman had forgiven him before promptly falling back to sleep. He had no such hope. His idea of wandering around the large fenced property to relieve his restless energy while Marianne worked had only managed to make him more depressed as he forced himself to acknowledge what a terrible person he really is.

Being unable to bear seeing his once best friend any longer, Bog carefully walks along the top of the stone fence until he reaches the fallen tree that he used to get up. Seeing his childhood home didn't bring him the relief that he had hoped it would. He's no closer to being returned normal and has no idea how he can contact Plum to undo her curse. To top it all, he's positively sure that he is the worst person on the planet.

Can my life get any worse?

Bog's ear twitches at Marianne's call and he eagerly runs through the wooded property to meet her. At least some good came out of this whole mess.

"Come on, King!" Marianne calls, opening the back door of her truck for him.

Strange. He thought she said that she didn't need to go anywhere today since Roland had surprisingly not messed up last night. The blonde ponce was desperate enough for a good word to her father that he didn't even try to shortchange Marianne by pocketing the leftover money.

Maybe she forgot something.

Mentally shrugging, Bog hops into the back seat and gets himself comfortable. It isn't until they drive past the gate does he realize that Marianne's amber eyes are filled with tears and her short sharp breaths are her desperate attempt not to cry.

"I'm okay," Marianne reassures at his whining. "But I...um...I got some good news. Mr Dempson just called. Your owners are at the shelter."

Oh, shit!


	6. A New Leash on Life

Bog sighs as he forces himself to admit that he can't go back to sleep and gets up to stretch out the kinks his restless slumber caused. The pre-dawn light is his only indication of how early it really is but it doesn't stop him from getting something to eat before cleaning up.

Shaking off the lingering pieces of the dream that woke him, Bog tries to ignore the emptiness that the past seven days have filled him with. It's almost hard to believe that it's been seven days since he last saw Marianne and he wondered how much of the Forest Manor she has left to fix, if she wasn't finished already. She had told him that she was only staying there until she restored the manor and would be returning home once it's finished. Which meant that he may never see Marianne again since she had never told him where she lived.

His heart pangs at the thought and he can't help a whimper that escapes him. It seems foolish that he would be attached to her so quickly. He had only known her for less than three days, after all. Sure, she had rescued him when Steph had managed to catch him and she did take care of him those few days but he helped her first by scaring away Roland and he's sure that he probably could have escaped Steph after awhile.

He sighs again, knowing it's useless to try and reason his feelings for the brunette woman. All he knows with certainty is how painful it was to see her heartbroken look as he was led into the blue car after a tearful goodbye. He hadn't been able to look away as he was driven farther away from her and he regretted that their last moments together hadn't been joyful ones.

She had mistaken his sheer panicking that fateful morning as being anxious to see his owner. There was no way for her to know that it was obviously a case of mistaken identity and that these people had thought he was their dog, who strangely looked just like him and happened to have run away at the same time he was turned into a dog. The whole ride was filled with him frantically trying to come up with ways to prove that they weren't his owners and that he didn't even have any owners to begin with. As much as he didn't want to stay a dog, it was far better staying with Marianne than some person who thought he was their dog. At least with Marianne, he could probably find some way to contact Plum or clue Marianne into the fact that he was really a human.

Why had he wasted two perfectly good days? Surely he could have thought of something to make Marianne realize he was cursed!

He had just decided to start running the second Marianne opened the door when said woman clipped the leash to his collar to keep him from doing such a thing and forced his resisting body across the parking lot and through the animal shelter's doors. She kept reassuring him that he wasn't being put into the shelter and that his owners were waiting inside. Her reassurance only made him tug harder. Neither he or Marianne were laughing but it was obviously a funny sight to see since it was laughter that broke the tugging contest between the two stubborn beings and caused Bog to freeze.

He's heard that laughter before. Most notably when he came home from work to find three drunks in his house three months ago and he spent the evening trying not to encourage their drunken exploits. Not that he could stop the drunken cat from falling from his kitchen table, walking straight into the wall, trying and failing to jump onto the couch, and finally falling asleep with his head in Bog's boot. He still doesn't know what his mother and Plum were thinking by giving a glass of wine to Imp.

Bog chuckles at the memory of Marianne's surprised look when he stopped trying to pull her away from the shelter and nearly dragged her the whole way to the reception desk where his "owner" waited. He probably should have been furious at the woman who tormented him for no discernible reason on her part but he was far too happy to see the blue-silver haired woman to be angry.

He had never thought that Plum was actively searching for him but as he listened to her truthfully expressing her gratitude to Marianne for taking care of him and posting the information at the shelter, he felt ashamed for thinking that she was cruel. That shame had only lasted for a few minutes, though, since Plum remarked that her recently single neighbor needed a good woman like Marianne to take care of him.

The old witch had no shame.

"Still doesn't," Bog laughs, looking to the house next door as he shuts the back door of his beige SUV.

He's not surprised in the slightest that Plum is already awake and he waves back at her lifted teacup from her place on the front porch. Even Imp pauses in his licking of the morning tea to acknowledge Bog as he settles into the driver's seat. Bog waves at the grinning cat before putting the vehicle in reverse and heading out as the sun breaks the horizon.

It's not the first time in the past week that the cat's dark brown eyes make him think of the white-haired man that posed as Plum's husband and Bog's supposed owner but after six days of being a dog, he didn't pass the similarities as coincidence. Whatever the truth is, Bog can only be grateful that the pair had gone through such lengths to help him.

He couldn't even pretend to stay mad at Plum. Not only had she came to get him but she repeatedly apologized for cursing him, sheepishly admitting that she cursed him by accident and had become frantic when he took off. She hadn't thought that he would run the whole way to his mother's house, so she had only been checking the local shelters in the nearby cities and towns.

He had been anxious to become human again but Plum apologized that he would have to wait until they got back to her house.

"Accidental spells aren't easy to uncast because they're raw and unrefined," Plum explained. "The pain you felt was unnormal for that spell and should I just spell you back to normal without a bit of magical help, the pain could render you unconscious for a few days."

She had even explained that she made sure that he wouldn't have to go through the trouble of having to explain his disappearance. She had informed his job that next morning that he was sick and because of her...connection with his boss, the man had gladly changed Bog's busy schedule into the vacation time he was never able to use.

The only other person to deal with about his disappearance was Angelina, who had come to his door very early the second morning but she had left before Plum could say anything and hadn't been back since. He reassured Plum that it didn't matter since he probably would have been avoiding her anyway.

It was unfortunate that he couldn't have avoided Angelina forever. Of all the things he had to do for the past week, dealing with her was the sourest but at least it was over and he now knew the whole truth. He doesn't know who was more shocked, him or Roland, when she admitted that she only dated them so that they could take care of her and that she was already on the look-out for another guy to replace Bog since Roland could only take care of her physical needs.

Bog had walked away before he could say the nasty words that bubbled in his gut. It wasn't until far later that he realized that he understood how Marianne felt concerning Roland and felt more pity toward the callous woman than anger. After all, his life can only get better without Angelina in it.

Pulling up to his destination and parking his vehicle, Bog huffs in surprise at how quick the trip took. It had seemed so much longer before. Quickly he exits the vehicle before opening the house's back door.

"My precious boy!"

He grunts as his mother slams into him with the force of a hurricane and wraps her arms around him tightly, only her watery beaming smile against his chest keeps him from complaining about being unable to breathe. But before he is able to return the embrace, he yells in pain as his mother slaps his arm.

"You know I don't like surprises!" Griselda growls.

"It's not that I wanted it to be a surprise but...," Bog starts.

"You've been busy," Griselda finishes with a sigh. "I figured you were working hard when you didn't return my phone call two days ago."

Bog winces at the remembrance of coming home to hear his mother's voice on his answering machine to tell him that she just got back from her trip. He had planned to call her but he fell asleep from exhaustion. His momentary guilt is chased away when Griselda pulls him down to kiss his cheek.

"It's okay, dear, but I still wish you could have told me that you were coming. I haven't even gone shopping yet and now I can't make you breakfast," Griselda complains.

"Haven't you eaten?" Bog questions sharply.

"Now, don't you start fretting over me, young man," Griselda warns, shaking her finger playfully. "I just haven't felt like going shopping since I got home and was just about to go into town for breakfast at the new diner that opened last month. Now, why don't you join me and we can enjoy breakfast together before you have to go home?"

"About that," Bog murmurs before moving his form to allow his mother to see the utility trailer hitched to his packed car. "Can I come home, Mom?"


	7. All's Howl That Ends Howl

Getting the grin off his face is going to take a monumental effort and it's not one Bog is feeling the need to take as he opens the passenger door for his mother to get in.

His mother had been overjoyed at his request...for all of two seconds before demanding to know what happened. He had given her a highly abridged version of the day he proposed to Angelina, leaving out all of Plum's involvement, and merely told his mother that he was not feeling like himself for a few days. At first, his mother was worried that he was running away from his problems because of a broken heart but he assured her that he was fine and thinking clearly for the first time in years.

The unexpected arrival of Trent delayed the rest of their conversation and it was Bog's turn to scold his mother as he discovered that Trent has been taking care of the animals for the past two years. The contrite woman softly admitted that she didn't tell him because she didn't want him to worry about her and she didn't want him to stop living his life just to take care of his old mother.

It was his turn to crush her in his embrace, startling both Trent and her as he started sobbing and apologizing for his failure as a son and as a friend. They hadn't said anything at first to let him get the grief and bitterness out but once he started to repeat the same self-hatred, they snapped him out of it.

He doesn't know how he got blessed with such friends and family but he'll be forever grateful. Not only did they forgive him for his absence and foolishness but everyone also came to welcome him home once he and his mother made it to the diner for a late breakfast/early lunch after he and Trent moved most of his things into his old room.

It had felt like old times as they got caught up with each other's lives and it made him feel somewhat grateful for what happened nearly two weeks ago.

"Bog, you shouldn't give up that job just because a few things turned out wrong," Griselda pipes up, apparently not through with the paused conversation. "You're your father's son and it's in your blood for that kind of work."

"This isn't me doing something dramatic," Bog defends, as he drives through his hometown. "I'm not that impulsive."

Bog shakes his head in exasperation at his mother's loud laughter. No doubt she is clearly is remembering all the times she had to rescue him out of some kind trouble that he caused by not thinking things through.

Okay, so he knows he's done a lot of things impulsively. Most recently: running fifty-two miles away from the very person who could help him after being turned into a dog and then agreeing to be Marianne's pet dog instead of running when he had the chance.

But!

He's thought everything through this past week and kept from doing anything impulsive. While quitting his job was not premeditated, the fact that he didn't even think about the ramifications of his six-day absence from work until Plum had assured him that she kept him from being fired is clear that he was ready to leave the soul-sucking corporate vampire. His boss even understood his reasons and let him quit without fuss. Which made him very curious to what Plum did that made the hard-nosed man very complacent once he found out that Bog knew her.

He hadn't asked.

"As I was saying," Bog continues once the laughter dies down. "Somewhere along the way I lost sight of everything, including myself, and the truth is...well, I only took that job for the money. I wanted to buy the Forest Manor for you and I thought if I had enough money I could give you a piece of Dad back."

"Oh, sweetheart!" Griselda sniffs. "I don't mean to sound ungrateful, because I am grateful that you wanted to do something like that, but you're the only piece of your father that really matters to me. Not that house or anything else, just you. I've missed you so much these past eight years but I thought you were happy, so I didn't want to make a fuss."

Pulling into the city park's parking lot, Bog turns off the car before leaning over and enveloping his shorter mother in an awkward hug. He can't believe how blind he was. Somehow he had never noticed the gray hairs salting through her frizzy red locks or the wrinkles deepening the lines of her smiling face. He had never seen how tired her amber eyes are despite the vibrant life still shining through them.

He never realized that he was wasting whatever time he had left with the amazing woman that birthed him.

"You should have made a fuss, Mom," Bog chides. "Maybe I would have gotten my head on straight sooner because I definitely missed you, too. Or maybe it still would have taken a while since you always complain about how stubborn I am and I don't think that's ever going to change."

"No use worrying about it now," Griselda chuckles. "You're home and that's all that matters. I hope you don't plan on leaving again for a little while at least."

"Don't need to go anywhere," Bog comments. "Finished everything during my last week at that job and since Plum was eager to buy the house to use as a rental, I don't even have to go back for that."

Selling his home hadn't been impulsive either. He had only bought it because the previous owner had needed to sell it and since he was renting it already, Bog had thought that it would be a good starter home for him and Angelina.

Pulling away from his mother's firm embrace, Bog takes a glance around the city park for a minute before driving away. No time like the present to clear the air and he better do it quickly.

"It's not the end of the world," Bog starts. "It shouldn't take me too long to get another job and it might be a good idea to take Steph up on her offer to ask her friend."

"You will not!" Griselda growls. "I don't want you anywhere near that woman!"

Bog winces at the harsh order before sighing. This is going to be a little tougher than he thought.

He hadn't expected to hear anything about Marianne without making the inquiries he was planning on making about the Forest Manor but to his surprise, Steph had brought the other brunette into the conversation after he dropped the bomb about him quitting his job. He also didn't expect the explosive reaction from his normally friendly mother. His mother liked everyone, after all, especially if they were young single women she could probably harass him to take on a date.

It had taken all his willpower to stay silent as he listened to his friends argue with his mother about how nice Marianne was. He had resorted to hiding behind his coffee cup to disguise the laughter wanting to burst out as he heard the tale of King the lost dog from their point of view. Although, even his mother laughed when Steph recalled Marianne's conversation that evening she officially met her.

It was priceless, after all.

Then he found out how heartbroken Marianne truly was after watching King be driven away and his heart broke all over again. He was just a dog at the time and it sounded as if she lost a good friend.

He hadn't been able to keep quiet then and demanded to know what was going on. What he found out had made him angry. He couldn't believe that the people he cared about deliberately shunned the compassionate woman for the four months she lived in the area.

No wonder she became attached to a stray dog and talked to it like it was human. No wonder her father was so concerned about her that he called every morning and night to check on her. No wonder she planned to leave as soon as her work was done.

He had tried not to let on how much he actually knew about Marianne's situation but he almost blew it when he discovered that his mother slammed the door on her when she came to the house to talk to her yesterday. It's a good thing Maxine and Travis decided that wearing their lunch was more fun than eating it or they might not have been able to get off the touchy subject without anyone's feelings being hurt.

"Mom," Bog tries.

"I don't care what they say. That woman is a Kindell or at least going to be one and they can't be trusted," Griselda interrupts.

"Mom, I know the truth about what Jeffery Kindell did," Bog sighs.

Taking a moment as he stops at the red traffic light, he reaches into the back seat and grabs his briefcase to set on his mother's lap. He holds down his own urge to cry as she opens it to reveal Loch's smirking face. That urge is replaced with confusion as his mother starts snickering before laughing heartily.

"What are laughing about?" Bog questions.

"I never realized that you could pass as your father's twin!" Griselda cackles. "No wonder Kindell moved away when you turned eighteen. He probably thought you were Loch's ghost come to haunt him! How did you even get this?"

"I, uh...I had gotten to thinking last week and when I went back to work I decided to use the connections I had to get that and to...well, to get those," Bog murmurs, pointing at the documents underneath the photo. "So, anyway, I know. I know that you lied to me about there being a discrepancy in the will and I know that Kindell stole everything from you."

"Not everything," Griselda murmurs, grabbing his free hand. "I wouldn't let him take you. I had every intention of fighting that old goat but then I got sick. At first, I thought that maybe it was the stress and the grief but a pregnancy test later revealed your father's greatest present to me and there was no way I was going to risk the chance of losing you."

"So you lost everything because of me," Bog mutters.

"Absolutely not!" Griselda denies. "This is why I never told you. You're so much like your father and I knew you would try to blame yourself. Just because I didn't fight as a precaution, doesn't mean that you're at fault. I'm just sorry that I lost your inheritance. Everything was stolen from you more than it was stolen from me."

"I've actually never thought about it like that," Bog admits. "I mean, Dad didn't even know about me."

"He knows you and I know he loves you as much as I do," Griselda states, thumbing through the documents. "So, what did you manage to find?"

"A record of the court proceedings and the judge's agreement that you were unable to care for Dad's entire estate," Bog answers before snorting. "Judge was a crackpot."

"He was sued a few years afterward about another case he presided over," Griselda mentions. "I probably could have tried to reopen the case during that time since a lot of people he was connected to did but I was a bit afraid to lose the agreement he had forced Kindell into signing about paying me a portion of your father's company's profits. I would have had I known that idiot would have run the business into the ground twenty years ago."

Bog turns off the main road onto the road that will lead to his childhood home's lane and grins at his mother's happy sigh as she pulls out his father's picture again. He can't believe he had never thought about trying to find a picture of his father. It seemed like something a child might want but it had never crossed his mind. His mother's stories were just so filled with his presence that Bog hadn't needed a picture to know his father because he already knew him.

"You missed the turn," Griselda points out as they pass the lane.

"No, I didn't. We're not going home right now," Bog murmurs.

"Bog, I don't...," Griselda starts.

"I'm extremely positive that she isn't who you think she is and you need to at least find out why she wanted to talk to you," Bog states. "If it's important enough to win an arm-wrestling match with Steph and Brutus at the same time just to get your address then it must be very important."

"Fine," Griselda grumbles. "I'll listen to what she has to say and then I'll tell you that I told you so when it turns out that I'm right."

Bog stifles his chuckling as he pulls up to the ornate gate blocking the driveway and parks his car before getting out. He grins at his mother's sound of surprise as he opens the unlocked side gate to let them both walk in.

He really hopes it's not too late.

He wasn't that surprised Plum started questioning him intensely about his interactions with Marianne once she turned him back to normal. She said that there was more to them and that they had a connection but he insisted that there wasn't. After all, he was only a dog to her and he...well, he had second thoughts about his feelings toward Marianne.

Clearly, it wasn't normal for him to be so infatuated with her. He obviously had some kind of psychological reaction related to the trauma he had suffered. The wonderful woman had saved his life and so, of course, he would esteem her highly, enough to almost convince him that he was in love with her. Which was ridiculous! He just met her, while also being a dog, therefore it is impossible. It stands to reason that he would no longer be so adoring after a few days away from her now that he fit the profile of a damsel-in-distress.

Plum had given him a look that clearly illustrated her lack of faith in his mental capabilities.

He had stood by his decision not to see Marianne again until after everything was settled but it was the one impulsive temptation he had to fight constantly. Worse, it was one the witch actively encouraged each day. She insisted that he had to reunite with Marianne as a human and he replied that he had to finish settling everything in that city so he could move home.

But each day the longing grew worse and each day he missed Marianne more. Examining his feelings had gotten him nowhere because it didn't make sense logically. There's no way he should feel stronger feelings toward Marianne than he ever did with Angelina. There's no way those feelings could be genuine since he did just break up with his longterm girlfriend.

Plum told him he was being silly and overthinking things. After seven days, he was inclined to believe her.

"My poor house," Griselda moans as they emerge from the tunnel of trees. "Just look at what's been done to it."

"It's probably better on the inside," Bog suggests, guiding her to the front porch.

Loud music thrums through the air and Bog hopes Marianne can hear his knocking over it. He winces as a crash confirms that she did, along with a series of barely-legible curses. His heart gives a tug as he hears Marianne's voice for the first time in a week as she calls to her unexpected guest that she's coming and silence reigns seconds before the large door opens.

"Mrs King!," Marianne murmurs with surprise, zeroing on the other woman first. "What are you doing here? I mean, not that you're unwelcome but you kinda made it clear yesterday that you didn't want to..."

Bog gulps uneasily as Marianne finally notices him, staring with wide amber eyes and her mouth still parted from her halted speech and her hands frozen in a gesture. There were plenty of scenarios that he expected would happen when they met again but her owlishly staring at him without blinking was definitely not one of them. Nor was her unexpected movement as she grabs the grey t-shirt covering his chest and drags him through the mostly-finished foyer to the parlor.

Surely she can feel his heart trying to break out of his chest!

But she makes no mention of it and neither does she release her grip as she looks at his father's portrait hanging over the fireplace mantle before turning her gaze back to him several times.

"Wow!" Marianne mutters before turning her attention to the amused Griselda. "I know you loved your husband but did you really clone him?"

* * *

Aura grins as Griselda's laughter fills the air. She just knows that everything will work out just perfectly now.

Who would have thought that a drunken promise three months ago could result in this? She may have forgotten the oath she swore to an equally drunken Griselda about her son's future but her magic didn't.

Barely noticing Imp jumping up onto the parlor's windowsill with her, Aura has enough presence of mind to curl her fluffy blue-silver tail before the white-furred miscreant steps on it. Imp nudges against her insistently but she holds her place, nipping at his ears for him to settle down. She knows that this is a private affair and that they really shouldn't be spying but she wanted to make absolutely sure that Bog followed her last piece of advice. It could turn disastrous for Bog and Marianne's future relationship if he leaves the matter unsettled.

Soon, even Imp mews in interest as Marianne explains how she came into possession of the house and how she had desired to restore it to Loch King's widow when she heard of the circumstances surrounding Kindell's cruelty. The pair of Turkish Angora cats look at each other for a second before returning their intense gaze to the inside scene as the story continues with her failure at finding out where Griselda lived or even if she was still alive and her father's suggestion of selling the property if Marianne couldn't find the missing widow before she finished renovations.

How strange that a dog that she named after the deceased Loch King made it possible for Marianne to fulfill the promise she had made to him after she discovered his portrait in the attic.

Bog's hesitant confession of the full truth behind that fateful day he proposed to Angelina barely reaches the ears swiveled towards them but his cry of pain causes both sets of perked ears to fold backward and Imp laughs as a blushing Marianne frantically tries to calm the angry mother. It seems Griselda is more concerned about him misbehaving than about him having been cursed but soon she calms down at the younger woman's insistence that Bog had been a perfect gentleman and didn't take advantage of his cursed form. The peace doesn't last long for the blushing youngsters as the elderly woman gets visions of hearts and flowers at Marianne's quick defense, cheerfully announcing Bog's recent availability.

Aura nudges Imp away from the window at the unfolding scene and they land nimbly on their feet before strolling down the lane. They had no more reason to stay now. It's obvious to the both of them that the young pair won't take that long before they become a couple and she dearly hopes that Bog won't forget to call her with the good news.

No longer worried about her magic's erratic behavior, Aura purrs happily as she curls her tail around her paramour's tail. Seems that even she can learn new things about love magic.

Tea Blend.


End file.
